Fuck Mommy Blogs

I actually intended this to be funny, but I know I only put that twist on it to hedge my bets. Children and motherhood can explode your brain into pieces if you think on it too long. Being a mother is commonplace. As children, we can even get toys that are babies for us to care for, feed, push in a stroller etc. My friends are mothers, my family members are mothers, and mothers and kids are everywhere. Except here…

The Internet is great. It’s also sick and gross and fucked up but we need it. And I love when I come across people who use it to tell their stories or add new things and ideas to the universe. But there is a problem—mommy blogs. My initial assessment as to writing this a bit sheepishly was to keep from hurting feelings or the jabs about things I don’t know. I don’t know a lot of things. But I do know that slapping the word mommy onto the title of anything gets you into a special tribe. It also makes some of us want to maim, crush and possibly wood-chipper the laptop that “mommy author” used to write on. “Mommy” is a magical word. It’s money—literally.

Here’s the thing though, that’s fucking bullshit. The life of a woman can be so much! Having a child gives you access to a thriving world of judgmental twats who squabble over the most humane way to consume a placenta. But what if I told you there was a world where you got to keep yourself, your time, and your possessions. That it’s not wrong to love being free and not shackled to the ultimate anchor. I have my own personal saying: I never want my biggest accomplishment in life to be a child. I want more. I don’t want to go to a kid birthday party and lie through my teeth to the others ladies. I don’t want a high school graduation I want my dream job. And I know I’m not alone. We just have to…not give up.